Gardenia
by Dark Lord Sakuya
Summary: While enjoying a private garden within this chaotic world, Aerith happens to meet Emperor Mateus. What will this chance meeting bring? (Materith)
1. Chapter 1

The war was far from ending.

Aerith knew it was going to be brutal, but she wasn't properly conditioned. Unlike the others, she hadn't seen as much death or troubles. Whatever life she had led in Midgar paled in comparison to the other's lives. They had lived with war and death for so long that it was clear it was wearing their mental stability. Perhaps that's why she was here. To give some sort of support, to help the others through their stressful battles. To keep their spirits up when all else seems to be failing.

So she stayed near them. She offered her help, giving full support whether it be through encouraging words or using her magic to empower them.

This world was far from her understanding. Nothing could have prepared her for the cruelty awaiting her.

He was beautiful. Hair of golden sun, the violet tips seemed to elongate the strands as well as his form. He was so very tall, towering over her much more fragile form. His clothing was reminiscent of one of her comrades, but far from any of her familiarity. He was certainly from another world. But what had him stand out from the rest were cold lilac eyes that bore into her emerald sheens.

Why had he come here? She had been so sure this little garden was a secret only she had come to know. And yet here they were, sharing the same proximity.

Lids heavy with thought, he looked to her, as though he too were as perplexed as she. He regarded her for what felt like an eternity, absorbing her person. Finally, he broke the silence, "I do not recall ever seeing you before. Are you one of Cosmos' chosen?" His voice was silk.

Truly, he would be a formidable opponent. From this chance meeting, she could already tell he was a politician. "That's right. I guess that makes us enemies." Aerith finally turned her gaze away, focusing on the white gardenias before her.

The grass shushed from movement. A subtle warmth tickled her right arm, alerting her that the beautiful man had taken his place by her side. The brunette's heart hammered in her chest. "It is truly a shame." His voice had lowered somewhat. She chanced a glance, glad to know his focus was on the blooms. "A beautiful flower enduring the hardships of war; I am surprised to see a hopeful light within your eyes."

As if on cue, beryl orbs widened. Her lips parted, but no words came out. He inclined his head towards her, the corners of his violet lips curved elegantly. Surprise wearing away, she returned his smile followed quickly by a light giggle.

"You're a charmer." Aerith commented, which drew a chuckle from him. "So… who are you?"

Her question had been some sort of a trigger. A swell of pride flashed over his countenance. He stood just a bit straighter, though she hadn't been able to tell much of a difference. His stance was nearly perfect. "The Warriors of the Light lack proper etiquette to not tell you whom you are facing. I am Emperor Mateus Palamecia." Swiftly, her hand was captured and a kiss was placed upon her knuckles. "And you are, my lady?"

A flush of pink painted her cheeks. With a bit of a shy hint, Aerith leaned away, her gaze flickering aside quickly. "Aerith."

"Your moniker fits you." He kept his grasp upon her hand. As he spoke, she could feel his breath dance upon her snow white skin, which only caused her blush to worsen.

Swiftly, she tugged her hand from his and cradled it to her pounding heart. "Thanks." Once again, his eyes drank her in. Aerith held her hand just a bit tighter, squeezing the warm fingers. "Why are you staring at me like that?" She asked once his gaze lowered below her neck.

He returned to staring into her impressive eyes, "I was merely observing you."

"It's a little rude to stare, you know." Her hands lowered. The air around him was thick and demanded respect. It was almost frightening how hard it was to fight against. But that must've been true for any emperor. He was the first for her.

Another chuckle slipped past thin lips. "Forgive my rude behavior."

But at least he was polite. "You're forgiven." She turned away, her ringlets bouncing against her face. Reaching out, she touched one of the white flowers, enjoying how velvet soft the petals were.

"Why would Cosmos choose to bring a bloom into her garden of war?"

The inquiry called her attention back upon his beautiful face. Her smile, this time, was saddened by the thought. "I'm not too sure." Her answer wasn't what he was looking for, she supposed. He probably found it difficult to imagine someone of her stature fighting. Most everyone did. "I think she needed someone to help pick up the pieces."

His head tilted, sending golden tendrils to brush against his sharp features. "Why do you say that?"

"Well." Aerith, once again, looked to the flowers. "It's difficult to explain. Besides, I don't think I should be talking to an enemy."

His knuckle swept along her cheek, pushing a ringlet away. "You would fight me, then?"

They looked into each other's eyes, lilac and emerald locked. "Afraid I'll beat you?" A question to a question. She was playing coy with him and, from the playful glimmer in his eyes, she assumed he enjoyed it.

"No." The captured ringlet curled around his fingers. "I simply wouldn't want to ruin such a pretty face."

"I was going to say the same thing."

They both shared a soft laugh.

"Do you come here often?" Aerith changed the subject. She tilted her head, her jaw touching his thumb.

The digit twitched and moved, the top of the long nail stroking her delicate cheek. "Not entirely." His voice lowered an octave. "It is a new habit I'll have to create."

Her eyes softened, dark lashes curtaining chartreuse irises. "Then you'll find me."

"Aerith!"

Startled, they pulled away from each other and looked towards the new voice. It was quickly covering distance. Aerith looked up to Mateus, "Hey-" but he cut her off quickly by presenting a newly plucked gardenia. Forgetting her comment, she took it, her smile as sweet as honey.

"I will find you again, my flower." And then he was gone.

She held the flower gingerly and, for a moment, stared off after the mysterious Emperor before turning to face the energetic teenager. "Hello, Zidane!"

Zidane slowed to a stop, a grin plastered upon his boyish face. "So here you are. I thought I'd find you here."

Aerith made a face at that. Who else knew about this garden? "You did?"

"Squall." Zidane shrugged. "The enemy started moving. We dunno their plan, but it looks like trouble. We gotta get back to everyone."

With a nod, Aerith followed Zidane back to the Warriors of Cosmos.


	2. Chapter 2

Fire ignited. The force causing the floor to rumble and creak. Aerith turned just in time to watch the ground beneath her break. She gasped sharply, gravity tugging her downward. Her eyes shut tightly, preparing for the landing when a strong arm wrapped around her and altered the destination.

"Are you alright?" A warm, though concerned, voice called.

Aerith stepped down onto firm ground and smiled up at her hero. She certainly hadn't been expecting Firion, of all people, to swoop in during a battle to rescue her. "Yep! Thanks." She smiled brightly.

A crackle of electricity coerced through the stagnant air with a haughty, childish cackle. "Oh ho ho ho! How cute! Sorry, but I don't ship it!" Lightning was unleashed, snapping at the two.

Aerith quickly held up her staff, a golden light flashing just as Thundaga smashed, breaking up the hard cement beneath and around them. The force was strong enough to knock them both back, but no damage was taken. Firion drew in a quick breath, trying to regain the air lost to him. Grasping onto Aerith's arm, he pulled them to their feet and with a hasty "Stay here" he leapt off the cliff-edge. Both hands on his swords hilt, he swung down with his reddened blade.

The jester side-swept , nearly cartwheeling out of the way. Aerith hurried over to the edge and peered down, watching as Kefka quickly dodged each of Firion's swings. Swift glances helped her find an opening. Rushing over to another side of the cliff face, she jumped off behind their foe.

Kefka twirled around just as the air shrieked sharply. Pink flashes blinded him and, suddenly, he was frozen. Firion took this opportunity and stepped in. With wild swings, the maniac was sent flying backwards and hit into the wall hard, making an indent in the tile.

That was all he could take. Snarling as he pulled himself back to his feet, Kefka hissed and vanished in a plume of dark energy.

The tension died down. Firion let out a sigh and turned to Aerith, smiling, "Thanks."

"We're a team, aren't we?" Aerith swept her hand over her skirt, then over her right shoulder, dusting off the remains of battle. "What about the others?"

Gold and green eyes turned skyward.

"I don't hear anything." Firion spoke quietly.

The brunette tilted her head. "Maybe they moved to a different field?"

"In any case, let's return."

Firion was knocked aside, a pained grunt leaving him. Aerith watched, in horror, as her ally fell. Another blast of red scorched between them as she took a step forward. "Firion!" She cried out.

A shriek of laughter penetrated through the smoky air. Aerith turned, her twisted ponytail bouncing around her waist. There he stood. The enemy they thought they had defeated. He was hunched over, his slick blond hair in a disarray and his jester's make-up running. But despite his disheveled appearance, Kefka grinned. He held out his hands, fingers rolling up and down in a wave. "Awwwwwww so sorry! Did I ruin the moment? I meant to come in sooner but, you know me. I just LOVE dramatic entrances!"

There was no way she could tend to Firion now. Not until Kefka was out of the way. The minute she would turn her back to him, she was sure it would be the end. Gripping her staff tightly, Aerith held it protectively in front of her, her brows furrowed as a rush of anger and desperation flashed over her pretty face.

Lightning crackled between the mad man's fingers and then, in an instant, a chain of electricity was unleashed. Aerith kicked off the ground, rushing forward. With a swing, she attracted the lightning to her staff, the yellow sparks drawn up into her body. Hand thrust out, the lightning threw itself back at the sender.

Kefka danced to the side, avoiding his own attack. "Oh ho!" But he wasn't ready for her staff knocking against his face.

He stumbled back, spun, and slashed at her with a hidden knife. The blade was coiled in fire. Aerith was not able to dodge. The searing pain rolled inside her. With a pained cry, she fell back, holding her hand to the fresh wound oozing crimson. Tears in her eyes, she started to scoot backwards. Kefka merely snickered. He crept towards her, pale blues fogged by insanity.

"Does it hurt?" He whined in a pathetic tone. "Did I hurt the pretty flower girl?"

"S-Stay away!" Aerith, with her free hand, jabbed the staff forward, catapulting a block of ice.

Kefka could only laugh as the weak spell broke in blue pieces upon impact. "That all you got, girly?"

A circle of light with intricate runes quickly wrote in the air beneath the jester. It had been so quick, Kefka hadn't been able to react properly. Caught in tendrils of lightning, he howled.

Eyes wide, Aerith stared, the light reflecting perfectly upon the emerald surface. Heels clicked against the hard violet ground. A sway of gold caught in her peripheral and in a brief second claimed all of her gaze.

"Really, Kefka. I would've thought you wise enough to leave what belongs to me alone." Emperor Mateus stood, his chin held high with an air of disapproval.

"Mateus!" Kefka snarled, turning just a little in his electric prison. "What-"

"Suffer." Violet eyes narrowed, a graceful hand rose, his staff held horizontally above his head. Letting it go, it floated, starting to twirl mid-air. White lightning wrote runes beneath him in a flash of magenta and purple. The air gained weight, crackling with energy. His cape flapped behind him, hair billowing in all directions.

Red lightning cracked like a whip, surging above him in a blaze of hell. Kefka screamed as fire rained down from the sky, burning everything in its path. He was caught in a burning, massive star. Screaming, the surface surged like lava. In one swift threat, millions of tiny volcanoes exploded. Wind whipped past the flower girl. She held her hand up, eyes pinched shut to protect them from the hot soot.

Heaving breaths, Aerith looked up. There he stood, untouched by the fire as cinders drifted by him. He gazed to the heavens, majestic in even a stoic expression. Blinking slowly, he looked to where Kefka once was, the painted man's body nowhere to be seen. A glance was spared for the fainted Firion, surprisingly lacking singes. Then, he looked to her. All at once, his harsh exterior lessened, his jaw relaxed. He held her gaze, and even still as he looked down to her cradled stomach, unaffected by the scarlet seeping round her pale hand.

Light steps carried him to her side. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her from the battle field. Aerith's breath hitched in her throat, causing a hiccupped gasp. "Mateus…" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "…How…?"

"Quiet." Mateus didn't look to her, his eyes glued to the path. "You've no strength."

Finally re-realizing her wound, Aerith rested her head to his chest, lids heavy and closed without resistance. It wasn't long before she fell fast asleep, weary from the battle and strangely relaxed in his grasp.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky was blue, warm, and inviting. Only the fluffiest of white clouds were allowed to play. A soft breeze rolled through the garden, brushing against emerald grass. Flower heads bobbed to the beat of a song unheard by normal ears. Aerith sat on a stone bench, humming the Earth's song. Her voice carried a short distance, muffled out by the greenery surrounding her. Nimble fingers tied strands of green together, forming a circlet of white.

A second wind blew, stronger than the first. Gasping, the flower girl held tightly to her flower circlet, her hair twisting in the air and pink skirt ruffling weightlessly. Only when it rested did she raise her free hand and fix chestnut tendrils. Letting out a sigh, she smiled.

"The wind's playful today, is it not?" The silky tone called to her. Mateus approached her, holding the same obtrusive manner she had come to know so well.

"It is." The brunette looked to him for a long moment before, eventually, letting her gaze return to her weaving. "So you came."

"You don't look at all pleased to see me." The man took a seat beside her.

"That's not it." Aerith mildly scolded. "I'm just busy."

He shifted closer, arm held behind her and grasping onto the back of the bench. Lids heavy, he watched her intricate work with mild interest. "And what, pray tell, are you busy with?"

"You can't tell? It's a flower wreathe." She finally looked to him and her words silenced themselves instantly. He was a breath's away from her. Her cheeks lit on fire and her grasp tightened on the crown she had been so delicate with.

The Emperor knew what he was doing. She could see the wheels turning in his head. He stared at her, lips curved into a smirk. She was at a loss. Something about him turned a memory over in the back of her head, but it wasn't strong enough to help it grow further than that.

Chestnut brushed against his immaculate face, ringlets dancing with gold tendrils in the wind. Her grasp weakened, the white wreathe fluttering and taking wing. It dispersed, the air currents quickly unraveling the hard work put into tying it together. But it didn't matter. All that circled in her head were thoughts pertaining to the handsome man absorbing her every breath.

Pain ripped through her skull, as though a feral cat were trying to claw its way out. Aerith winced and quickly brought a hand to her forehead, but it felt as though she were underwater. By the time her hand reached the highest peak towards its destination, it was captured. Breath hitched in her throat, her eyes snapped open.

A purple gloved hand held it; the fingertips pointed almost resembling a claw. She followed the gradient gold arm up to the pointed shoulder armor until her gaze rested on the familiar, calmed face of the Emperor. She relaxed, releasing a breath she hadn't realized was being held. "Mateus…"

He placed her hand back on her side and released her, reclining into his seat with crossed legs. "You've awoken."

"Where…" Aerith blinked hard and surveyed what little of the room she could from the bed. The best way to describe her whereabouts was "ruined". Part of the wall near the door was knocked in, the cinders broken or halved on the floor. Torches lined the gray cement, illuminating most of the shadows from her sights.

"The old Chaos Shrine. Or what is left of it." Mateus answered.

"Oh." Her eyes shut, and then quickly opened. Attempting to sit, she winced, her hand grasping at her stomach. The pain of what Kefka had unleashed on her forced her to remain lying.

Mateus clicked his tongue as you would a disobedient child. "I would think you intelligent enough to not move after an injury like yours."

"Injury…?" Aerith rolled onto her side, inhaling sharply, her arms hugging the wound. "Firion? Is Firion alright…?!"

"How would I know?" It was the most curt she had heard from him. "I left the boy in his place on the floor."

Brows furrowed, she glared at her rescuer, her lips thinning. "I need to go back."

Mateus looked down at her, showing how clearly displeased he was with her choice of words. "So you can heal him?" She nodded. "With this?" Two fingers held a green orb up in the torchlight.

"You…" Her expression slowly relaxed as realization hit her. "You healed me with that."

"Very perceptive." Violet hues glanced over the orb, though his voice was the opposite of his nearly bored to death expression. "Peculiar object. I've seen one other use this. It reminds me of the scrolls myself and Firion possess. A fragment of our world."

"That's Materia." Aerith shut her eyes, hoping doing just that would alleviate the pain she had recently inflicted upon herself. "It… holds the knowledge and… wisdom of the Ancients." His attention was once again upon her. "I didn't… expect someone like you to know… how to use it."

He scoffed. She looked up at him. "Dear maiden." He was looking at her softly as he had done before, the harshness having faded with the subject change. "I am more skilled than you can hope to imagine." Legs uncrossed, he leaned down slightly, the pale yellow strands pooling on the sheets beside her. "Enough of that. I'll assume you're better now that you've regained conscious. Or would you prefer another spell?"

She smiled, albeit weakly. "I'm sorry… I'm alright. But… can I have that back?" She rolled onto her back.

"As you wish." Pressure was applied to her bracer. The materia clicked into place within one of the nodules, back to where he had taken it from. "Here, was it?"

"Yes. That's right." His fingers grazed up along her arm before crossing to her stomach. He took the liberty of unbuttoning her dress. "What are you doing!?" Aerith blushed furiously, her hands quickly grasping onto his arm. "S-Stop!" One by one, the quaintly white buttons were freed, leaving her entire midsection exposed for his merciless eyes to behold.

"Silence." Mateus smiled. His eyes flickered up to take in her expression, his brows arched playfully. "I'm only checking your wound."

Aerith grasped his arm just a bit tighter, pouting fiercely at him. "You could've said so to begin with!"

"And miss such a beautiful reaction?" His index finger dragged along the line on her abdomen, being careful not to upset the burns Kefka so readily left upon her. He scowled, eyes narrowed as they had been when nearly destroying the jester. "What he received was not penalty enough."

"It's alright." Her fingers lightly trembled. Her voice rose in pitch, "If you didn't come I-"

A finger pressed to her pink lips. Emerald and lilac locked gazes as they did many times before. He bore down upon her, shushing her easily. "Do not say such things." He spoke quietly, but still with the power he easily possessed. "It's alright to show your weaker side, Aerith. But only for me. Do not hold back." Tears slipped down her rosy cheeks. A thumb wiped one away, leaving the second to disappear into chestnut strands.

She began to cry. He was released long enough for her arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him close. His arms embraced her waist. They held each other, his hold so much more strong then her own. She felt weak, her face buried against his neck. She whispered. "Thank you… Thank you…"


End file.
